


Dangerous Grounds

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10887183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Two curious boys find an unremarkable house.





	Dangerous Grounds

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” The tall boy says as his dirty fingers carefully trace the ‘no trespassing’ sign. The other boy, much smaller but just as messy as his friend, rolls his eyes. He stares ahead and grins. There’s something about this place that makes him want to ignore all the rules, all these signs someone must have put up here. He wants to explore the wide fields and find out if anyone even lives there. There’s a special scent in the air, he thinks, as he takes a deep breath. They have to go in, find out more.

“Come on, Danny. What could happen? No one cares about this place.”

“Then why do you care?” The boy, Danny, asks trying to tame his hair. Both boys need a hair cut and a shower. Neither of them cares. No one in their lives pays enough attention to them.

“Just follow me, Danny. It’ll be fun.” He grabs the fence with his hands and easily climbs it, quick as a cat. He may be small still, but he’s strong and stubborn. Too stubborn, people tell him all the time, and he just rolls his eyes at them. They’ll fall out one day, one of his so called mothers has said once; they haven’t yet and he is certain it’s just a lie anyway. Like so many things in his life.

“Come on!” He yells, sprinting ahead, unable to remain still another moment.

“Wait! Wait for me, Will!” Danny stumbles on the soft ground and Will finally turns around, waits until the other boy has caught up with him.

“Look, there’s a house! Let’s check it out.”

“Will, we’re trespassing. We could get into so much trouble if-”

“Who would live out here, Danny? I bet it’s abandoned and full of cool stuff.” His eyes settle on the unremarkable house there in the distance. It beckons him, invites him over, like a new friend. There is no one here to stop them anyway. Another grin directed at the sky and Will is off, running like there’s no tomorrow. He knows Danny will follow him. He always does.

*

Scully tells him he’s paranoid at least twice a day. Today, Mulder is certain, she’d tell him a third or fourth time. He is convinced that something – someone – is out there in their garden. There’s a faint rustling, voices if he listens closely, and he swears it’s not a rat, not a cat. Not even a fox. The first time they saw one, Scully’s silent giggles evolved into a full belly laugh. She scared away the fox, before she took another one into her bed; their love making that night full of giggling, lust, and pure adoration. That, however, seems forever ago now. Scully, if she’s home at all, is stressed out, continuously rolling her eyes at him, her sighs deep and long. Just a lot of work, Mulder, she assures him when he dares to ask. He is not sure if she means her actual job at the hospital or this life, with him, here in the middle of nowhere. He has not yet dared to ask.

Paranoid or not, Mulder stealthily stares out the windows. Nothing. He moves to the back, soundlessly, and for the first time wonders if Scully is right; maybe they should get a dog. They both still got their guns as protection of course. Scully’s is upstairs in a drawer under some lingerie she hasn’t worn in ages. His is in his study, lying uselessly under papers and documents. Such trite hiding places, so easy to find, so easy to use against them. Just like this house; Mulder and Scully in plain sight, like rabbits, just waiting to be executed. He is not crazy, not this time. Someone is out there, right there in the bushes, a foot peeking out. Mulder’s heart beats fast, but steady, his eyes fixate on the spot. He tries to decide whether to get his or Scully’s gun; which one is easier to reach? But before he can make a decision, the foot moves. A boy, around 7 years old, if at all, he thinks, stands up, runs his hand through his filthy, dark hair and just stares at the house. A second boy, taller and obviously less certain about being there, stands up. He chews on his fingernails, his eyes flying about crazily. That’s Mulder’s cue; he pushes against the door and the boys gasps.

“What are you doing here?” Mulder tries to sound authoritative, but judging by the smaller boy’s expression, he fails.

“We’re sorry,” the taller kid answers, tripping over his words, “We didn’t think anyone lived here. We just… we just…” Mulder thinks he is just about ready to start crying. He’s standing behind the smaller boy, which looks strange, but it’s clear to him whose idea this was in the first place.

“This is private property,” Mulder starts, eyeing them carefully, “Didn’t you see the signs?” The smaller boy snorts, rolls his eyes.

“Will, come on, let’s just leave.” The other child whispers loudly, elbowing his friend. It’s a common name, William, Mulder thinks absent-mindedly. How many people are called William in the US alone? Still, his mind starts rattling as he can’t tear his eyes away from the boy.

“Are you going to call the police?” Will asks, his eyes growing wide. He scratches his head and Mulder wonders when the kid last washed his hair. If he ran away from home. Up in the sky, clouds break away and make way for a few scattered rays of sunshine. One lands on the boy’s hair, makes it shimmer reddish underneath the soft brown. Mulder blinks a few times, just a trick of light, he tells himself. So many Williams out there; this is not yours. This is not him.

“Mister, are you gonna call the police?” The kid repeats his question, this time raising an eyebrow. The familiarity of that simple movement is too much for Mulder. He feels like he should sit down, take the child and interrogate him, or send him away and forget it ever happened. Maybe Scully is right; he is crazy, out of his mind, insane. None of this is real.

“I think he’s not right in the head, Danny.” Will says without taking his eyes off Mulder. Who swallows hard, clears his throat.

“I am right in the head, don’t worry. I’m not going to call the police if you leave now.” Except he doesn’t want him to leave. Not if he's…

“Of course,” the boy Danny nods eagerly and grabs at Will’s sweater sleeve, “we’re as good as gone. Let’s go, Will.”

“Do you live here all by yourself, Mister?”

“I live here with my wife.” That’s not entirely true, as he and Scully have never actually made it to the altar; he figures it’s just easier to explain to this boy. Not that he owes him an explanation, or anything else. Yet, he feels like he does. Will squints his eyes against the sun and freckles appear on his skin as if someone were painting them on in record time. Mulder knows this face, refuses to believe it, to even entertain the idea that this is…

“Will, come on.” Danny tugs at Will’s arm and Mulder is distracted for a moment when he sees it.

“You’re hurt.” He says, pointing at the child’s hand. Both boys stare at it, blood trickling down from a gash on his wrist.

“Oh.” His voice is suddenly as small as his whole body. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Come inside, I’ll take care of it,” neither boy moves, “my wife is a doctor so I know what I’m doing.” Their expressions, previously curious, change to wariness.

“We really need to go, Mister,” Danny says, his voice quivering, “It’s not too bad. We’ll take care of it at home. Right, Will?”

“Yeah,” Will replies, glancing at Mulder. He knows these eyes. He knows them. He sees them every morning when he wakes up. Sees them each time he looks across the kitchen table. Mulder searches for his voice; he has so many questions, no answers for the boy in return if he were to have any, but his voice remains silent.

“We gotta go,” they’re both walking backwards, afraid of what might happen if they were to turn their backs to him, “It’s just a small wound. Nothing bad. Sorry again, Mister.” Will’s voice is calm, then he stops, slaps Danny’s shoulder and yells ‘run’! Mulder watches, frozen in place, as they sprint away.

“Will…” he whispers into the air. No one hears him. Mulder goes back inside, locks the door behind him. Will, Will, Will. He wants to tell Scully, the need to do so beating strongly in his chest. Will, he marvels, a smile tugging at his lips. It falls away almost as quickly; you’re crazy, Mulder, she is going to say, with a sigh, a roll of her eyes, Will is gone. Gone forever. What’s the point in telling her, he thinks, because she is not going to believe him anyway.

*

“Will, what was that?” Danny is panting, his hands on his thigh, trying to catch some much needed air. Will feels the same; he is lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He stares at the blood on his wrist, touches it carefully. It doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t even sting.

“It was weird, wasn’t it? That guy?” Danny goes on. Will doesn’t answer. He turns around; the house now a small spot in the distance. He doesn’t want to leave here, he thinks. Something about this place… something in the air. He shakes his head, shakes it off. Just a place like any other. Just another crazy person.

“Let’s just go, Danny.” But Will remains quiet on their way back, his thoughts on the strange man, who Will thinks might have looked a bit like him. He considers asking Danny if he thinks so, too, but his friend is talking about basketball again, lost in his own world. Will glances back once more; the house is no longer visible, neither is the fence, the no trespassing sign. In a day or two, he will have forgotten that this ever happened.

 

 


End file.
